


rage.

by waterpllar



Series: winter soldier/homunculus au [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Homunculus Edward Elric, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24210184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterpllar/pseuds/waterpllar
Summary: Part 2 of the Winter Soldier/Homunculus AUWrath (Ed) finds himself in a cell, and devises a way out, only for the Fullmetal Alchemist, Alphonse Elric, to stop him with an upending truth.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric
Series: winter soldier/homunculus au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717897
Comments: 7
Kudos: 74





	rage.

Wrath wakes up with a pressure behind his eyes so strong he can barely focus. 

He can feel handcuffs around his wrists and ankles, and fuck, he can’t even straighten enough to be comfortable. His captors are smart enough to completely restrain him to the wall, but that doesn’t mean he can’t yank the chain out of the wall anway. 

The cuffs aren’t he half-assed wooden boards they make for alchemists, either. Everytime he opens his eyes, a stab of pain lances its way through his head, but from the feel of it, there’s some sort of complicated locking mechanism that he won’t be able to open without knowing it inside-out. 

He’s still processing what exactly had happened before he got knocked out and captured, when an intercom crackles to life out of nowhere. 

His interrogator clears their throat. “We have a few questions for you,” they say, in a gruff, probably male voice. “If you do not cooperate, we will be forced to use other means for the answers.” 

Typical. 

When he finally does pry his eyes open, the lights are dimmer, and he gets a good look around. 

He must have been captured by Fullmetal and his little sidekick, then. He can vaguely remember fighting with the two, but after is mostly blank. 

If it’s military on him, then he’s in a bit of a pinch. 

Father doesn’t have as a good grip on the military as he wants to, Wrath knows. Ever since the last Wrath rebelled and told several different soldiers what was going on under Central, they’ve been instructed to keep away outside of missions. 

Wrath knows he won’t be here for long, but if one of the other homunculi have to go pick him up like a fucking child, he won’t be pleased, and the teasing will be endless. 

Still, until he figures out a way to get out of the cuffs, he might as well lead on the military for a bit. 

He squints up at the ceiling. “Okay,” he sighs. 

“Full name?” 

“Wrath the Furious,” he says. “But no one calls me that. It’s just Wrath.” 

A tense silence. The man must be writing this down. 

“Age and place of birth?” 

This man must be truly stupid. Doesn’t he know that homunculi aren’t actual humans? 

He’ll humour him for a bit more, though. “It depends,” he snorts. “Whether you consider the actual person, or the body I’m in right now. Technically, I’m a little over a couple hundred years old, but I imagine this body can’t be older than seventeen.” 

Another pause. “Why did you attack the Cannon and the Fullmetal Alchemist?” 

Now, this is the fun part. 

No one has found out yet that the homunculi are anything more than a group of mass murderers, and he’s not about to spill the secret after it being kept for an entire empire’s time. 

He shrugs as casually as he can with his hands bound behind his back. “Hell if I know. I just do things I want to do, kill the humans I want to.” 

Wrath has pinpointed the direct source of the intercom by now. There’s a half-assed idea forming in he back of his head, as well. 

In the lengthy silence after the previous question, he shifts a little on the concrete bed, discreetly arranging the cuffs so that the ones on his wrists are underneath his automail foot. 

This way, he can rip off his hand and effectively get one hand (or stump) free to use alchemy. He’s pretty sure the cuffs are made of a carbon alloy of some sort, a huge irony considering the amount of times he’s won sparring against Greed, due to his dependence on his shield. 

He has a way of getting out of the cuffs and out of the cell, but he’s not really sure how to get the men outside undoubtedly watching from cameras distracted long enough to effectively rip off his hand and reattach it. 

Maybe he can fake some sort of reaction and hunch over himself to hide it. 

A reaction to- pain? Yeah, that’ll work. 

Somehow provoke the grunts inside to administer a method of torture and then pretend to be incapacitated long enough to escape. 

The next time the intercom crackles, another person is speaking. 

“Wrath the Furious, we have a proposal for you,” this woman is sharper-sounding than the last man. “If you can provide us with information on your fellow homunculi, we will grant you certain privileges within your confinement.”

Wrath actually looks up for the first time. What the fuck is up with these arrogant-ass humans making deals like they’re in charge?

It’s probably because all they see is a little kid stuck in chains and a cell block, but he’ll gladly prove them wrong. 

“Fuck no.” he spits. 

“Why not? You are not in a position where you are in charge, homunculus.” 

He resists the urge to laugh outright. “You can’t make me do anything, asshat,” he says. “You’d all be dead by now if not for your fucking state alchemists.” 

The woman sighs, microphone still on, and Wrath hates how it sounds, condescending and disappointed at the same time. 

“Then you leave us no choice,” she says in the same tone. “I’m sure you’ll be more agreeable after this.” 

It’s taking all his willpower not to let a grin slip right then. They all have no idea that they’re playing into his plan perfectly. Now the only matter is to endure the pain and then get the fuck out of there, preferrably with the woman’s head detached from her body. 

From above, a panel opens, and a strange looking contraption is lowered. 

There’s no discerning features on it, just an extended prod that looks a little like the barrel of a gun. 

It won’t be any worse than having to accept the stone into his body, anyway, but Wrath still cringes a little, then curses himself for it when the machine extends to his chest. 

He can hear a tiny click from within, and for a moment nothing happens, when it starts humming, and- 

It feels like there’s a buzzing all the way to his teeth, and it fucking hurts, more than he expected. Electricity is crackling across his skin, and for a horrible moment, he thinks that his limbs are getting ripped off again, because his ports are being burned from the inside out. 

The agony only lasts for a few more seconds, but it might as well have been an eternity, for all he knows. 

Wrath isn’t faking it when he sags against the wall, panting. 

His ports are aching like hell, but he can still use them and that’s what’s important. He gives himself a second to catch his breath, and the lingering pain is quickly being smothered by the all-encompassing rage that sweeps through. 

He starts to bore down on the cuffs with his foot, tugging as hard as he can while still looking incapacitated, when an entrance he didn’t even know was there opens. 

In steps the Fullmetal Alchemist, face contorted in anger to rival Wrath’s own, shouting orders at someone. 

“-you idiots, who authorized this?” his teeth are bared, and this situation is suddenly ten times more complicated than Wrath wanted it to be. 

Behind Fullmetal, a blond girl with some sort of mechanized gauntlet stalks in, and there’s a strange sense of recognition that disappears as fast as it came. 

She’s yelling too. “He’s a fucking kid, what the hell were you thinking?” her gauntlet is whirring, and the one soldier that Wrath can see is practically cowering in fear. 

The woman steps in, and Wrath wants to smash in her face even more know that he’s seen it. 

“We were given permission to use necessary force by General Hakuro, he was resisting our attempts to-” 

“Bullshit. That was fucking torture.” the girl says. 

While the girl is occupied with chewing out the soldiers, Fullmetal suddenly turns to Wrath, and he tenses. 

The kid’s eyes are full of concern, and before Wrath can do anything, he pulls out a weird looking key. 

“Are you okay?” 

Wrath isn’t really sure what he was expecting from the kid, but it’s definitely not for him to unlock both of the cuffs, and extend a hand to help him up. 

There’s something wrong. 

His headache is back, and there should be no reason why Fullmetal is looking at him with such worry, considering the fact that he was the reason Wrath was captured in the first place. 

The gap in his memory is the most confusing thing; he’s always been able to retain details much better than others. 

Wrath glares hard at Fullmetal, not attacking him, but not moving from his spot on the floor. What was he fucking missing? 

Fullmetal still has his hand outstretched, face curious and angry and anxious at the same time. 

“What the fuck happened yesterday?” Wrath stands up on his own, rubbing his wrists. 

“I don’t- I don’t think this is the best place to discuss it. Could you come with me to-” 

“No,” he cuts Fullmetal off. “I’m leaving. I want to know now.” 

“Well, uh, I _really_ can’t say anything without Winry,” Fullmetal says apologetically. “Maybe, you can go to, um, Liore tomorrow? I can tell you then.” 

Shit, he really shouldn’t be having a conversation with the military like this, even if the kid is a sacrifice, but he’s still not sure why he can’t remember the last half of yesterday, and he fucking hates not knowing, even with trivial things. 

He’ll just check in with Envy and tell them he has a separate thing to do, and head off to Liore to find out. 

Father won’t mind, as long it doesn’t interfere with his skills or motives.


End file.
